


Pressed

by deedeeinfj



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeeinfj/pseuds/deedeeinfj
Summary: "Allow me, Mr. Butler," Phryne said, intercepting him at the top of the stairs and reaching for Jack's neatly-pressed suit. 3x01 AU.





	Pressed

"Allow me, Mr. Butler," Phryne said, intercepting him at the top of the stairs and reaching for Jack's neatly-pressed suit. "The Inspector might be feeling a tad self-conscious this morning."

He smiled knowingly, handed her the suit, and descended the stairs.

She tapped on her bedroom door and inched it open. Jack was not only awake, but peering at her over the doona like a frightened child. She folded her lips against a violent urge to laugh and went in, closing the door behind her.

"Good morning, Jack!" she sing-songed as she hung his suit. "Mr. Butler pressed your suit, and there are some nice, hot omelettes downstairs."

"What--" His voice was still rough with sleep, and she filed away the sound of it for her own personal use. He cleared his throat. "Miss Fisher, what... how..."

"I don't know what you remember of last night, Jack," she said softly, taking pity on him, "but my father's nerve tonic quite did you in."

"Nerve t--your father...?"

She sat on the edge of the bed. "Father and Mr. Butler helped me carry you upstairs."

"Your father," he repeated, still registering that information.

"Yes. Owner of a large selection of cravats."

Jack eased himself up slightly and winced. "My head."

"You did imbibe a good deal more tonic than the recommended dose, with alcohol on top of that, and then you had unfortunate encounters with both a door and the floor."

Before she could stop herself, Phryne reached out and brushed the curls back from his forehead. To be fair, she told herself, no person faced with an attractive, if infuriating, man could have resisted. Jack's eyes blinked shut at her touch, and she trailed the backs of her fingers down his cheek.

His eyes opened again, suspicious. "Who put me in these pajamas?"

"Mr. Butler, of course," she said. Because she couldn't help having a little fun at his expense, she added, "After I undressed you."

"You...?" Jack's face flushed pink.

"No, Jack," she smiled.

Her own face felt warm, and how could it not? Jack Robinson, drowsy and hoarse and blushing and pillow-creased in her bed, his boyish curls free and mussed, loose pajamas offering his throat and chest? Granted, it was not quite the way she had hoped to wake up with him this morning, but the image was bewitching nonetheless. Tenderness and desire were both coiling in her stomach, and neither would do at the moment.

"Get dressed," she said briskly. "A hot breakfast will set you to rights in no time, and we have a case to solve."

She stood and made to leave him alone to get dressed, but he reached out and touched her hand.

"Phryne."

It was always a rare gift to hear her name on his lips; to hear it in his gravelly morning voice was... well, stirring.

"Jack?" she said, sinking back down to the bed.

He pushed himself up further so that he was sitting upright, and Phryne summoned all her self-control to keep her eyes from wandering to the hollow of his throat. Well. From doing it more than once.

"Last night is hazy," he said, "but I think I was terrible to you."

"You were."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I would never cancel an evening with you just because some other person happened to strike my fancy. I would never treat you that way, and it hurt me that you thought I would."

"I know that," he said quietly. "But jealousy and insecurity made me forget it."

"Don't forget it again, Jack Robinson." She turned her face up to the ceiling and heaved a great, frustrated sigh. "Do you have any idea how excited I was before my father showed up and ruined it? And again last night?"

"I think I have some idea," he said, his voice low-pitched and thick.

Phryne looked at him and saw her own disappointment and longing in his eyes. She touched the open collar of his pajama shirt. "That tie was new," she murmured.

"Yes."

"So was the dress I wore for you last night."

One of his hands covered her fingers, which were still toying with his collar. He leaned forward and used his other hand to cup her face and draw it to his. He hesitated a moment as if waiting for permission, and she gave it by kissing him herself. He tasted of stale alcohol and tonic, but she cared not one jot. She could taste Jack beneath all that, and Jack was delicious. She climbed into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips, and felt his groan more than she heard it. Her free hand went first for his hair, letting it sift through her fingers, and then she slid it down past his loose collar to touch the bare skin of his back.

"Jack," she breathed as his mouth wandered over her jaw.

Mad with impatience, she leaned back and pulled the pajama top over his head. She held his neck in both hands and stroked his ears with her thumbs, covering his mouth once again with hers. Even through the thick doona, she could feel how much he wanted her, and she pressed herself more tightly against him.

"We can't do this now," he said raggedly when she trailed her lips down his throat to that hollow she had been dying to taste.

"No," she agreed, though it did not deter her from licking her way to his ear and biting the shell.

He turned her face back to his and kissed her briefly before resting his forehead against hers to still her. "Phryne," he panted.

She gave in and sagged in his lap. "I want you."

"And you can have me, believe me," he said, drawing his head back from her and smiling. "But not now."

There was a short knock on the door, and Mr. Butler said from outside, "Pardon the interruption, Miss Fisher, but Mr. Johnson and Mr. Yates are here to see you."

"Thank you, Mr. B. I'll be right down," she replied loudly. Phryne grinned down at Jack and combed his hair back with her fingers. "Will you be right down as well, Jack?"

"Not _right_ down," he said.

"When we finish this case," she said, moving off of him and out of the bed, "I'm going to finish you."

"You finished me a long time ago, Miss Fisher."

She gave him a devilish look and leaned over to steal one more kiss.


End file.
